


The Shape Of A Heart

by Denzer, RedRoseWhite



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: 404 Ben Solo Not Found, Abandonment Issues, Aftercare, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Anal Fingering, Anal Play, Begging, Ben Solo Lives, Blow Jobs, Bondage, Clit Slapping, Come Swallowing, Consensual Non-Consent, Crying, Deepthroating, Devoted Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren, F/M, Face Slapping, Holding Hands, Light Bondage, Mild Verbal Degradation, No Pregnancy, POV Ben Solo, Penis In Vagina Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn with Feelings, Post-TRoS, Rape Fantasy, Rape Roleplay, Redeemed Ben Solo, Reference to cuckholding, Rough Oral Sex, Rough Sex, Safe Sane and Consensual, Safe to read for people triggered by pregnancy, Safewords, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, pussy slapping, spit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-15
Updated: 2021-01-15
Packaged: 2021-03-13 08:22:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,256
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28775259
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Denzer/pseuds/Denzer, https://archiveofourown.org/users/RedRoseWhite/pseuds/RedRoseWhite
Summary: For #ReyloKinkuary, a Consensual Non-Con, canon-divergent AU where Rey and Ben define their love by offering each other the darkest parts of themselves.He asks her, every now and then, if she likes it as much as he does. And every time, there is a moment he’s certain she will say no, that she doesn’t want to anymore. She’s always so strong, so fearless. How could she want to let him take that away from her?
Relationships: Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren
Comments: 18
Kudos: 125
Collections: Kinkuary Prompt Challenge





	The Shape Of A Heart

“Don’t. Please, don’t.”

It’s her voice. Rey knows, instinctively, how he wants her to sound. The exact moment Ben needs her to stop fighting and start pleading, desperate. Afraid. She must feel him get harder, the way he pushes involuntarily against the thigh he’s holding down. 

He asks her, every now and then, if she likes it as much as he does. And every time, there is a moment he’s certain she will say no, that she doesn’t want to anymore. She’s always so strong, so fearless. How could she want to let him take that away from her? 

The first time he’d asked her, there had been a swell in his chest, a tight shuddering. When she slid into his lap and begged him in a breathy, sing-song voice not to take her, that quivering in his heart had released like ink touched to a writing-sheet, an obliterating stain. 

She’d grinned at him, secretive and playful, knowing how much he’d needed to wipe the smile from her face. He’d been softer about it, back then. Didn’t know how much she’d like it. How she would take everything he gave, as if he were pouring out a canteen into thirsty sand. His iron grip on her forearm made her wet, and the more she tried to twist away the harder he’d press, the wetter she’d get. She loves the fear he gives her, because it lives in her body, but never escapes. It’s not real, could never be. She is scared, but she is also safe. Always.

He mocks her now, pouting, “Please, don’t,” in a piping voice, and feels the muscles in her ass clench hard. Panic is swooping down to carry her away, a convor’s talon that rasps at the skin without breaking it. Surrounded by down and double-edged.

“That’s it, little thing, beg me to stop. I want to see you cry.” 

He keeps his voice soft, controlled, the exact opposite of what he’s feeling. His desire is galloping like his heart; pounding and fast and free. Her gasping is tight enough that he knows a part of her really isa little scared, and it’s enough to spur him on. 

He hooks his fingers into her pants, the warmth of her naked ass on his knuckles, and pulls them to her ankles, so she is bare for him. When he’d tried that in the kitchen, he’d earned himself a punch to his jaw that still stings. It took effort to drag her here, face down on the end of the bed, knees not touching the ground with the force of him pushing against her. He bound her hands, but only just. He’s gotten better at pinning her, squeezing her elbow exactly so, and the pinch on the nerve saps her enough that he can tie her up. She’d punch him again if she had the chance, so he does not give her the chance. Simple. It’s not like this all the time, couldn’t be, but when they do this, he wouldn’t want it as much, if it came easy. 

When his doubt makes him hesitate, when the fear of losing her pulls him out of it, he seeks reassurance from Rey, and it always comes. This time, he sees the welt rise, the bright red shape of his fingers on the back of her leg, and leans heavily over her. 

“Rey, what’s the word?”

“Fourteen.”

He hates the word she’d chosen, but she isn’t wrong, it would haul him back from any edge. He brings his mouth close to her ear because whispering isn’t part of it. “Want to use it? It’s OK if you do. I’ll still make you come, but I’ll be gentle.” Unbound hands, soft licking. Her curving silhouette, rocking on top. If he needs rougher friction to finish, she’ll roll over for him, let him fold her legs the way he likes. He’ll pant into the shell of her ear and spill wispy secrets along with his seed. Shining with tenderness that recalls a touch across stars. 

“If I want to use it, Ben, I’ll use it,” she whispers back, edgy, because the panic has receded and she wants to ramp it up again, making her heart pound. “Now make me say it.” 

The challenge burns, like she knew it would. She stokes his hunger to break her. Not completely, not forever. Only in places he alone can see. 

Everything is easier after that. Holding her down, ignoring her cries, forcing her legs wider. He eyes the lube when he grabs her ass, squeezes so hard his thumb breaches her cunt, testing surreptitiously. She’s so wet he gets a little giddy, squirms two fingers into her folds and draws them up and down. 

“Look at this,” he brags, triumphant. His hand comes up to her face, helplessly pressed to one side on the bed. Her slick clings to the pads of his fingers, as if he’d dipped them into a jar of syrup. “Already wet. Taste it. You fucking love it, don’t you? You _want_ me to fuck you.”

Smearing it across her lips like balm, he doesn't even care that she doesn't lick or suck; he’s content to rub it messily on her mouth. She’s back in a split second, like he’d never asked her the safeword. 

“I don’t.” There’s that delicious hiccupping sob that makes his cock jump, and he quickly brings his hand back down to grasp it, to nudge it right up to her wetness, “Please, please stop.”

Her voice is ragged and he pushes in, right as she begs him not to, so her moan pitches high and her face twists into the sheets. It might have hurt, just a little, judging by the way she’s squeezing around him. 

“That’s it,” his teeth are clenched together so hard it sounds like he’s spitting, “Keep begging me, try to deny it.”

He loves taking her like this. Her ass splits like a peach while he spreads her cheeks with his palms, watching his cock spear her defenseless pussy. A gob of bubbly saliva leaves his lips and sways on a long string before it hits the dark ring of her asshole. He watches it drip down; helps it with his thumb. She gasps when it hits. He knows better than to try and fuck her there with only this for lube, but for a minute, they both pretend he doesn’t. 

“Your ass looks so pretty, all shiny and wet.”

Rey squirms frantically and the ridge on his cock catches on her opening. When her back arches, he glimpses that her nipples are so hard that the areolae are half their usual size.

Then, he finally pins her. Just like he did last time, in the hold on the Falcon, and the time before that, above the cantina beside the Black Spire. He can last like this, hard and fast, one hand planted in the center of her back to keep her down, just above her bound wrists. Her hips jam into the hard mattress and bounce back up at him with every punishing thrust, but he can last this way. He knows the spot he’s hitting inside her, the one that is probably swollen now, from rough handling with his thick fingers. He’d caught her as she ran for the door, heart pounding because he knew if she reached it, she’d open it and run. Sometimes the fear is real enough, even when they both want it. But he’d caught her as she tried to unlatch it, with his arm around her waist, lifting her off her kicking feet. He’d held her against the wall with a forearm across her chest and shoved his hand into her underpants, twisting his wrist and finding that spongy spot inside her as she screamed and spit at him. He’d taunted her, unrelenting, gathering fabric in his fist, rucking it up to her neck so he could look at her pretty tits. She’d panted at him with an open mouth, and eyes that saw a monster.

“I should have done this to you a long time ago. If I had, you’d be mine now.”

“I could _never_ want you.”

Even with that, he could keep going now. But, he knows where he wants to finish. It’s her mouth that ruins him. When he pulls out and grips the head of his dick, he takes the pressure off her body and her sobbing is clearer now, a drawn-out, staccato gift, in her beautiful, ragged voice. He grabs her legs, pulls one over the other so her upper body has no choice but to flip for him. Her mascara is running, dark smudges below wet eyes, and her lips are swollen red from biting. 

“Fuck. Look at that pretty mouth.” 

She groans and, for a second, he can hear her need. 

That’s not what he wants to hear, because he’s in it now, immersed. He brings his fingers down, taps rapid and hard against her clit until that sound is stamped out and it’s pure rage there now. Snarling lips pulled back over perfect white teeth. Her knee comes up to push him off and, if her hands weren’t tied, he’d have to worry about her right hook. He fucks up into her to quieten her, long strokes, drawn-out, tilted to meet the palm he’s pushing down on her belly. He can feel it, his dick moving inside her and he presses harder on her stomach, leaning his weight down and curling his hips up to meet it. 

“Thirteen.”

It’s breathless, faint over his own incoherent mumbling. 

_Fuck yes you take it take me so fucking good so hard you make me so hard I can feel it every-fucking-where_

But he hears it like a siren, freezes.

“Twelve,” he corrects her, automatic and unthinking, and takes his hand away from her belly. He pulls out of her and holds still with his hands raised where she can see them, no part of him touching her. 

It’s less than a minute until she nudges his hip with her knee, softly coaxing his eyes from the floor. She’s ready, insistent and squirming. But his heart is still pulling in his chest, fear and memory and want and revulsion all combined. She’s never had to use Fourteen, not once, not even when they were playing this game in a toppled AT-AT. He’d shoved her face against the wall of nicks and growled,

“Open your eyes. Look at those marks, your sad little calendar of abandonment,” He pressed hard in her cunt, his thumb working her asshole. 

“Think about all those days when nobody wanted you, nobody cared if you lived.” 

She could see where the metal turned darker with the wetness from her face. Her eyelashes brushed the light lines that gleamed even brighter from her tears. Kylo eased his thumb past all resistance and sat it still in her ass.

“I’m the one who found you, nobody wants you, not like I do. Nobody here for you, until me.” 

Her sobs went so deep then, he thought she was going to say it. But she just lay limp and let her breath rush in, then ebb, like a salty tide, and he knew that if he was still, it would be all right. When she caught enough breath to say lowly;

“I hate you.” 

He’d laughed, and made her come on his cock while she etched half-moons into her own back with her clutching, clenching fingers.

She never needed to go back there, after that. All of the ghosts were gone.

Now, in her quarters where there is cool air, and usually peace, Thirteen is enough to throw him, so he reaches down to stroke lazily at her clit, talking his way back into it. 

“See how you want this? You wanted me to do this to you, all this time, didn’t you?”

She’s sensitive from the slapping, her face twisting from side to side, thighs clutching his hips. She’s urging him closer, because this is the part she likes the best, but he holds off, using his fingers instead. She’s clenching hard. 

“You’re so wet, Rey, you can’t hide it from me. You can say it. I’m going to fuck this pretty cunt anyway, no matter how hard you try to fight-”

She jerks so hard her ass comes off the bed and he has to hold her hip steady to line himself up. Her whole body is shaking but he’ll only give her shallow thrusts now, working her closer. 

“You’re going to come. You can’t fucking help it. You’ve always wanted me. Right from the start, it was all you could think about. You and me. Just. Like. This.” 

Ben punctuates each word with a deep thrust and Rey is moaning, still clinging on so he’ll push her harder, mumbling “No,” and “Not this way” over and over until the words start to blur. He speeds up, feeling how close she is. 

“You would have,” he insists, “You fought it, but you wanted to know what it would feel like to be fucked by a monster. Admit it-” 

She comes with her legs pulled high around his hips, dragging him into her, screaming “Yes!” so loudly that if anyone hears them, they will know what this is. He covers her mouth with his wet hand, feels the hardness of her teeth on his palm, and pistons his hips to extend her orgasm. 

After, he lets her come down a little. But not too much. They’re not done yet. 

He’s careful of her arms when he pulls her down onto the floor, keeping them against her back so her shoulders don’t wrench. She’s caught awkwardly low, between his body and the bed. She’s whispering and he cups her face to his ear to hear it. 

“I wanted you. I’ve always wanted you. I would have let you.”

It’s the part she likes the best, this admission. It seeps through her with a warm thrill that nothing else provokes. Sometimes, it’s where they stop because it’s all he needs to hear. She’s undone and tear-stained; he loves her all over and it’s hard to think of anything but holding her. It’s not till she slaps feebly at his stomach that he comes back to it, like she’s pulled him in, because she wants the same from him. 

He takes her chin and gives her head a shake, narrows his eyes at her. 

“You’re gonna suck my cock and, if you’re good, I’ll come back here soon.” A tap on the cheek, just three fingers, short and sharp.

He leans down to growl into her face, “If I feel teeth, I’ll come back with some friends.”

There’s more moaning that he cuts off by shoving his dick past her lips. She shifts subtly so she’s curling her back, pushing her shoulders against the bed, as if he can’t feel how that presses her center against his thigh, sliding, just over his knee. He’s never said that before, threatened to let someone else fuck her, and Rey seems to come to life beneath him, sucking so hard that he allows her to rock against him. Her eyes are closed, and she’s tasting herself on him, imagining the phantoms that he might summon to slither their touch over her. Ragged cloaks like clouds of smoke, death-faced masks, the merciless tread of ash-dusted boots. In one world, they are all dead, and the heavy handles of their weapons lie uselessly wedged in the cracks of the earth. But in the world she and Ben are making together, they might come to this bed and overrun her body. Pry her open and cover her, until she can’t move an inch without dripping or drooling out their spend. 

Tomorrow, he’ll ask her if she wants it, or if she just liked the menace of it. He knows where to find someone who would, someone they can trust. But, right now, he’s in the back of her throat and the tears are rolling over her cheeks and she’s squeezing her eyes shut because he is fucking big, and strong, and he can do whatever he wants to her, take whatever he wants -

He goes too far and her throat closes tight, head pushing back into his hands. She’s not shaking her head so he keeps going. She wants this, has always wanted it, all the parts of him, even the monster. Every time he tests her, she proves it.

He’s deep enough that there’s gurgling when she tries to take a breath and then he’s coming, holding her head with one hand and leaning hard onto the bed with the other so he won’t crush her as he ruts into her throat. 

She pushes his hips back when he’s finished, pulls off him but he can tell by the weight of her head that he can’t take his hand away without her falling. He catches his breath as she swallows, coughs and pulls in huge gasps against his stomach. He’s so fucking proud of her, how much she can take, what she’ll do just to see him come the way he wants. Pinprick tears that he blinks away and then he’s moving, hauling her up, settling her on the bed. He puts her on her side so he can undo the ties at her shaking wrists. She’s crying a little, small sobs that never fail to press small thumbprints of fear on his heart.

“Shhh, sweetheart,” he tells her, pulling her into him and dragging up the blanket so she won’t get cold, “You’re so strong, so perfect. You did so well.” Her hands cup her cheeks. She uncurls slowly like a tender new leaf, leaning into the light of Ben’s words. 

For now, this is all she needs, just to hear how good she made him feel, how bravely she fought, and how beautiful she looked. He picks out the different things she did - he really did think she’d pull the front doors open - and tells her how each one made him feel. Powerful. Victorious. Relentless. Proud. And underneath, at the end, wanted. Trustworthy. Loved.

When the sobbing stops, he tells her he loves her so much that sometimes, he can’t breathe around it. She gives him a hazy laugh.

“I know how that feels,” she says, gently massaging her throat. 

He’s learned the right length of time to let her rest before he makes her get up, holds her steady so she can pee, feeds her water so her head won’t hurt in the morning. He’ll do all of that, but, for now, he kisses behind her ear, tucks her body into his, and thanks her for what she’s willing to give to him. 

“Every single part of me is yours, do you know that?” he asks, nudging her cheek as it dimples an exhausted smile. “You’re strong enough to hold it all. Only you, always you.” Her fingers seek his, lace their hands together. 

“I know,” she says. “Only you, always you,” echoing back their code phrase. She squeezes his hand twice, and he does the same back to her. The sun sinks low enough at last to make the lights on the terrace turn on, and together they breathe in the dozy twilight. Two white moths flutter past the window, their flight paths a pattern of intertwining loops. Rey blinks and watches them settle close together on the pane. Their overlapping wings form a heart.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to [duelingaxis](https://archiveofourown.org/users/duelingaxis) and [anopendoor](https://archiveofourown.org/users/anopendoor) for beta help, and [theresonatinglight](https://archiveofourown.org/users/theresonatinglight) for warm encouragement.


End file.
